CRACKED
by Xx.SM1LE.xX
Summary: A girl with a troubled past is brought to Arkham Asylum, expecting nothing except to be treated like all the others, but what happens when a certain doctor takes an interest in her? As well as many other criminally insane, such as the Joker. Change is coming, and she can't decide if it's for better or for worse...
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer**- I do not own Batman or any of it's characters_

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"Taped patient evaluation 1. Patient name is Alexandria Conners, recently relocated from Jacksonville, Florida Psychiatric ward after killing a technician and injuring 3others. Patient suffers from major depression, anxiety, anorexia nervosa, and PTSD, shows possible signs of Bipolar 1 with hallucinations." The voice prattled on, eyes scanning over the file in front of her on the the desk as she spoke, her eyes flickering up to the girl seated across from her every few seconds as if she were watching a dangerous animal and waiting for it to pounce. "Hello Alex, I'm Dr. Sanders, seeing as how this is our first interview together, let's just spend the time getting to know each other." The young girl ignores her and instead looks around her, the room was too white, too bright. They tried to make the room comforting with white walls and floors, plush leather seats, and big open windows that over looked the ocean, but the thick metal bars caged outside the window threw off the whole idea of "comfort", as did the smog filled sky and the roaring black waves with jagged rocks pointed towards the asylum like knifes. "How are you liking Arkham Asylum so far? I imagine it feels good to finally be back on land and relax after flying on a cramped plane for 14 hours, plus the 3 hour drive here." Her smile is sympathetic, hoping that Alex would immediately jump into conversation and complain about her trip like most teenage girls would do. After waiting a few minutes for a response, but getting nothing, she try's again. "Any hobbies? Painting, writing, crafts...boy watching." She smiles, trying yet again to appeal to her young age and keep the mood light. Dr. Sanders pursed her finely painted red lips, leaning back in her chair slightly as she plotted how to approach next. "You know, I can't help you get better if you don't talk to me..." The girl simply pulls her legs up onto the chair, wrapping her arms around them as she rest her chin upon her knees; staring straight into the good Doctor's eyes. With a sigh she falls back into her chair, blowing a stray black curl from her face as she folded a finely sculpted leg. "We have an hour together...wouldn't it be boring if we just sat in silence the whole time?"

"I like the silence." Her voice was soft and quiet, almost sounding dead.

At this the Doctor perks up, sitting straight up in her chair with her hands neatly folded on the desk. "I imagine any child who went through years of abuse and fighting would enjoy quiet. Is this why you prefer not to speak?

_It's hot outside. Must be in the 90's. She did remember hearing someone say that they were supposed to have a heatwave sometime next week...or was it this week? It must be this week since she could almost feel her skin melting off, beads of sweat dripping down from the crown of her head, slipping down her face, past her neck, and disappearing into the cloth of her shirt. "full of grace! Our lord is with thee! Blessed art thou-" A man stood above her, dressed as a preacher though his suite was old and torn and covered in filth, one of his glass lens cracked and reflecting the light off in rays like beams from heaven, only this man was more devil than angel. His long, wavy blonde locks were greasy and clung to his sweaty forehead; little driblets flying when he waved the small, black, leather bound book around. "Jesus! Holy Mary, Mother of God-" She lay perfectly still, hoping that if she did he would think she had passed out and leave her alone, but her current position caused her back to scream out in pain. She was laying on a pile of broken wood that used to be a chair, said chair had been smashed against her back moments ago to keep her from escaping the house like she usually did when it was beating time. Her back throbbed painfully, causing her to gasp quietly and shift slightly atop the wood, the motion had caught his eye and his attention was now focused back on her. She screamed out as he stepped closer, bending down to grab her by the ankle as she scrambled to get up, and yanked hard. She tumbled back onto the pile of wood, pieces of the wood stabbing her and drawing blood as he dragged her closer to him. "pray for us! Pray for us sinners!" Roughly he flipped her onto her back and held her down by her throat, making her sputter at the loss of air. He raised the bible up high into the air and brought it down across her face with a furious thud. Alex cried out, trying feebly to stop his attack, only receiving another vicious blow to her face that left it red and swollen. "now and at the hour of our death!" Her vision blurry, she looks up at him with watery eyes as he held the book up with both hands, the light sighing behind him brilliantly as if God were standing there himself. "Please," She tried to whisper, though her voice was scratchy and it came out more as a gurgle. "Stop." A silent tear rolled down her swollen cheek, her stepfather paused, the moment allowing her to look into his eyes and see her reflection in his glasses; her body crumbled on the floor, face swollen and blood dribbled from areas where skin had split. "Amen." And with that the book was brought down onto her face with a loud crack._

With a start, she is brought back to reality, Dr. Sanders still chattering away about the reports of her abuse. "Please." She begs, jaw clenched tightly as her finger nails dig into the wood of her chair; the knuckles turning white from the force. "Stop."

Sanders pauses, looking up from the book and finally noticing the anguished look on her face. Slowly she looks back down at the book and notices the letters PTSD and possible hallucinations caused by bipolar 1, written in bold letters, making her frown at her own stupidly for forgetting such a thing. She groans inwardly before rubbing her forehead, if she didn't stop badgering her patients she was going to get fired very soon, and she had only just started her carer. She sat hunched over her desk for a few minutes, giving the both of them some time to recollect themselves. "I'm sorry." She looks up to see Alex taking big, even breaths to relax herself though her eyes tell her that she is still shaken up from whatever flash back she just had. "Are there any events of your childhood that stand out to you the most?" Probably not the smartest thing to ask after what just happened, but she needs some answers; it looked bad for her if she had nothing to report about her patient except that she was quiet.

A bitter laugh suddenly erupts from Alex's throat. "What wouldn't?" She gives her a look as if saying, 'really bitch? Are you that stupid?'.

Raising her chin slightly, she responds. "Any number of things could leave an impact on a child so young, not just the beatings." She ignores her flinch at the word, continuing. "The only way for you to get over your fears, Alex, is to face them."

She rolls her eyes, burying her face further into her legs. "Easier said than done."

"Well I'm here to help you Alex, any way that I can. Just know that anything you say is between us."

She chuckles quietly to herself. "No one can help me, and even if they could, I don't want it." Was this women really giving her this speech? She hated it when people told her this. 'It gets better, you just need to open up'. With a snort she closes her eyes and decides to try and block the doctor out as she scribbles something down into her notebook.

Definitely Bipolar. She went from quiet and shy, to sad and fearful, and is now angry and brooding, all in a few minutes. She is not Bipolar 1 though, more of a case 2 or mixed. "And why is this?" Quickly she finishes her sentence, hoping that she would continue to rant but instead she goes back to being silent. Looking up she notices that her eyes are closed and takes this as her way of saying that she is done with this topic for now. Sneaking a peak at her wrist watch, she sees that there is still 34 minutes left."Tell me about your time in Jacksonville. Progress reports show that at arriving you were unresponsive to treatment, but soon improved, only to unimproved again." She waits for a response and, of course, is given none. "It says that during your period of improvement, you became close with Dr. Ricketti before she died."

The kind , elderly face of Dr. Ricketti pops into her head, remembering how she was the only doctor there that actually cared for her patients and genuinely wanted to help them. How she would go out of her way every morning to stop by her room and say hello, then again before she left to go home, how she would sneak her in foods she liked because she refused to eat the hospital food, how she could tell her anything in the world and she wouldn't judge her or try and label her like most doctors, she just wanted to listen and be there...how much of a mother she was like to her. "She was a good women."

Dr. Sanders notes how gruff her voice has become on the subject of Dr. Ricketti, a sensitive topic to her no doubt. "I know, she was."

A fire suddenly lights in her eyes and she looks her dead in the eye. "You weren't there, you don't know anything about her, so don't speak anything of her." She hated Doctors. They were either major ass kissers or major ass holes that looked down on you like a child. Dr. Sander's seems to be leaning on the ass kissing side.

She is surprised by her sudden outburst but doesn't show it, a sensitive topic indeed. "I take it you and her were very close?" A simple nod of yes is what she gets, better than nothing right? Reaching a hand across her desk, she lays it at the end as if trying to touch her with it, staring intensely into her eyes. "I know what you're going through; I too, have lost someone dear to me."

She eyes her up, not sure if she is serious or if she is still trying to connect herself to her as in a way of giving them some sort of bond in hopes that because of it, she'll spill her deepest, darkest secrets. "How much more time do we have?"

Lifting her watch to her face, she squints her eyes a bit as if it'd help her see better. "About 17 minutes. Why? You got a hot date or something?" She winks playfully.

With a snort she states. "Yes, because people like me attract people like Bruce Wayne."

She shrugs, leaning back into her chair as she places her hands neatly on her lap. "Love is a strange thing."

Funny how she didn't disagree with Bruce Wayne being too good for her. "May I skip lunch and shower instead? I rather shower before everyone else gets there and it gets all crowded, plus I'm not really hungry..." Just then her stomach decides to growl loudly, causing the doctor to raise an eyebrow as if saying 'really?'.

"Sorry, but I can't let you do that. Goes against the rules, and you have to eat. You're a little too thin and the goal is to get you to a healthy weight; this can be done by you either eating or we hook you up to an I.V." She threatens, making Alex narrow her eyes at her but she only smiles. Just then the timer goes off and a guard walks in, jingling some keys as he looks for the one that will unlock her ankle chains from the hook on the floor. As he bends down to unlock her, Dr. Sanders clicks the tape recorder off then reaches out to shake her hand. "It was a pleasure meeting you Alex. I look forward to tomorrow's interview."

Liar. She doesn't give a damn about her, just getting all the information about her and then sharing it with every doctor in the Asylum so she can get a good reputation and keep her job as a doctor, making hundreds of dollars and buying fancy things she won't need or use. The guard releases her feet so she can walk before tugging on the chain connected to her wrists, yanking her towards the door like a dog. Obediently she follows him as he leads her to the lunch room, taking her through so many different hallways she's amazed at how well he's memorized them; it must have taken him months before he could simply walk to the bathroom without getting lost. Soon enough they arrive to a set of closed, double doors with two guards standing guard on either side, loud chattering can be heard from the other side. With a twist of his wrist and a loud click from her cuffs, he slips them off and hooks them to his belt, nodding once to each guard before walking away. She watches him take a few steps before turning her attention back to the doors, the guards ignore her and simply stare off into space, probably waiting for her to leave so they can continue their game of "Who would you rather do?". With a shaky breath, she pushes open one of the doors and steps into the cafeteria, the loud buzz of a hundred different voices talking at once assaults her ears. Quickly she spots the line for food and heads for it, grabbing a styrofoam lunch tray from a near by cart and waits patiently inline for the disgusting food she knows awaits her. Once she's gotten her gray goop on stale bread and juice box without a straw, she turns to scout the room for a table to sit, careful of where she sits since most people in here were crime lords; sitting at one of their tables is officially declaring you work for them or wish too, which is something she does not wish too do. After a few minutes she eventually spots a table she think is safe, well safe enough, to sit at. There are a handful of people, both male and female though mostly male, all not talking to each and not facing each other, and since they seem to be doing their own thing it means there is no "boss" of the table. Quickly she makes her way to it and sits near a bald man who is talking quietly to himself, using his finger and the gray goop to spell the all the months of the year on the table. Looking down at her tray, she decides that she is most defiantly not going to eat it and slides it to the middle of the table, knowing that someone will take it. The man seated diagonally from her looks at it before looking at her then back at the food, quickly he snatches it and grabs a fist full of the goop. He holds it near the collar of his orange jumpsuit, a lump moves inside his clothing before a rat head suddenly pokes out from it, sniffing at the food before nibbling on it; the man giggles and repeats the process. Ignoring him, she lets her eyes wander the room, pointing out infamous villains as they sat surrounded by their goons; Penguin, Joker, Black Mask, Harvey Dent; etc. She watched as Harley wrapped herself around Joker as The Prince of Crime cackled at something, noticing that one of his goons across from him was holding his left hand; the fingers curving in ways that she was sure they weren't supposed to.

"I wouldn't stare unless you wanted to loose an eye."

A voice suddenly says, a man with short brunette hair, a mustache, and a soul patch sits down next to her on her right. She watches as he makes himself comfortable before asking what he means.

"Look around sweetheart, do these people look friendly? One wrong move and...BANG!" He points his finger at her in the shape of a gun, laughing once he "shot" her. He then turns to his tray and begins to eat his food, causing her to make a face at how he actually ate whatever it was that they served. She watches him as he picks up the sandwich, or whatever it was, and brings it towards his mouth, quickly looking away before she can watch him take that first bite. Looking back up at the Clown table, she observes Joker, noting how tall he was and that he had more muscle to him than the TV gave him credit for, and weirdly enough...she found his maniacal laughing drawing her in rather than scaring her away. She had been tracing the outline of his back and shoulders when she suddenly locked eyes with a pair of blue ones. Blinking, she realized that is was Harley Quinn, her eyes narrowing on Alex in a threatening way as she tightened her arms around Joker's waist possessively. Joker, curious as to what has Harley's panties in a bunch, turns and locks eyes with Alex. His eyes darken and he flashes her a dangerous smile, looking ever the devil. Quickly she rips her gaze off of them and focuses on the table in front of her, her palms sweaty and shaking from the heat of their stares. A loud laugh to her right catches her attention, and she turns to see that the man had been watching her, his elbows perched on the table with his arms crossed, hands hanging towards his chest as he hunched forward on the table.

"I told you." he smirks. "Pulling shit like that will get you killed, even if you did nothing but simply look at someone." He glances back up at the Clown table, making her also risk peeking and wishing she hadn't, Joker wasn't paying her any attention but Harley was still giving her the death glare. He shakes his head slowly, chuckling a bit to himself. "Ah, don't worry about her...annoying bitch." He waves a hand as if to dismiss her completely, looking at Alex with a grin. "She's just mad about you checking out her 'Puddin'." At this, she blushes red and opens her mouth to retort but nothing comes out but air, so instead she just closes her mouth and crossed her arms across her chest while looking down at the table again. He laughs loudly, causing a few heads to turn from it's volume.

"Will you be quiet!?" She whisper/yells harshly at him, her face flaming up even more as more heads turn to watch the scene. She doesn't dare look but she can almost feel Joker's intense stare as he watches them, her stomach doing little flips at the thought. Yes she was intrigued by him, but she was also deathly terrified of him; much rather watch him from afar than the other way around. He was about to say something when suddenly there is a scream, at the far end of the room people quickly get out of the way as a dark skinned man is tackled to the table, toothbrush sticking out from his chest and leaking blood onto the floor. The man responsible slowly backs away from the mess, blood covering his hands and chest as he stands tall, seeming proud of himself. A whistle is blown and guards start shouting at everyone to move, telling them to go back to their cells, threatening them with solitary confinement if they don't.

"See ya around toots." The man with the soul patch waves, giving her a little wink as he disappears into the crowd, not even bothering to clean up his tray; as did 99.9% of the lunch room. Looking back at the scene, she finds that almost everyone has cleared out, those that didn't went to get a closer look at what happened. Two guards held the man back while another cuffed him, the man didn't even bother trying to fight them off, he was too busy staring at Penguin who was standing off to the side with his goons surrounding him. Penguin seemed to magically pull a cigar out of his pocket and put it too his lips, a nearby goon quickly pulling out a lighter and lighting it for him, taking a hefty lung full and blowing the smoke out. He seemed to pause and watch as the smoke twirled and twisted, finally focusing his attention back on the man and giving him a simple nod of his head, making him smile hugely as he was then carted away but the guards. By then everyone had cleared out from the cafeteria except for Penguin, his goons, a few guards, and her. She was so curious about what had happened that she didn't realize she was standing alone and in the middle of the sea of lunch tables, making her really stand out to Penguin. She gasped when his inky, brown eyes flashed to hers, he merely stared at her, putting the cigar to his lips and biting on it as he took another lung full. He raked her form over as he took the cigar back out and blew smoke, giving a little grunt he turned to walk away; the ever loyal goons hot on his heels. Truly alone now, she just stood there and looked at the huge mess left behind, feeling sorry for whoever had to clean this up.

"Hey! Lunch is over, back to your cell!" A voice shouted, making her jump slightly before rushing out the door. How come they yell at her for just standing there but don't do anything to penguin when he started smoking?

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_Been working on this idea for a while now, hope all of you like it! Also I will be following the plot of the games but I will be adding in some things from the comics, though I haven't read them so most of my information is research. If anything is out of place or just completely wrong or even if you have any suggestions, please let me know, I want this story to be as good as possible!:)_


	2. Chapter 2

The room is dark and damp, the cold air nips at his exposed skin and gives him chills.

"Stop!"

The lights above flicker every now and then, giving the room an eerie look, well the scene is already gory enough, the lights just add more of a dramatic effect.

"Please God, make it stop!"

The Doctor sighs as his thoughts are interrupted by the screaming patient yet again, looking up from his clip board, he adjusts his glasses before speaking. "No one can hear you Mr. James." The heel of his dress shoes click loudly against the marble floor as he walks around the man strapped to the standing table, eyeing the various straps that keep him locked in place.

"HELP!" He try's again, head bowing as a choked sob rips from his throat.

The doctor tisks at him, shaking his head as he looks at the bit of visible skin of the man's back, jotting down some more notes about the skin distortion. The man begins to make strange noises in the back of his throat, his eyes watering and looking pained, his mouth opens and the noises get louder. The doctor quickly comes to face him, just in time to watch as he spews an inky, black liquid onto the floor. He simply stares at the mess for a minute before jotting down more notes, ignoring the man as he groans in pain. He jumps slightly when an ear shattering scream rips from the man's throat, his head thrashing back and forth as his skin begins to bubble like a boiling pot of water. Watching as the man seems to grow almost three sizes bigger before he suddenly pops, turning his head and covering it with the clipboard just in time to avoid the splat of blood. Slowly he turns back to look and see that the man's skin had literally popped off his body and that he was still alive, blood oozed off of his flesh in slow rivulets, his teeth and eyes standing out drastically with no lips or eye lids to cover them. The doctor's body began to shake, furious, he looked down at himself and saw that he was covered in blood and fleshy clumps. "God damn it!" He shouted, shaking off his arms in attempt to rid himself of the grime. Angrily, he stomped towards the sink, tossing the clipboard to bang around on the counter before falling to the floor as he slammed his hands down, shoulders hunching as he curled into himself; grinding his teeth together as he seethed. Just then the door opened, causing him to grab a near by scalpel and turn to the intruder, pointing the weapon at them with a shaky hand. At seeing who it is, he lets out a sigh of relief and drops his arm to his side. "Oh, it's just you." The man stands perfectly still,arms crossed behind his back as he watches the nervous man with cool, calculated eyes.

"I see that this one has failed also." His deep, gravely voice purred. Gray eyes scanned the gory scene before him, watching as the skinless man seemed to be twitching, noticing how his eyes plead him for help.

"Yes. It. did." The doctor bit out, turning to glare at the skinless man like it was his fault for his skin popping off. He then turned to the sink to turn it on, the handle squeaking loudly before water rushed out, little droplets flying out from the force. "How did you get in?" He ran a rag under the water, getting it drenched and then twisting out the excess water before scrubbing off the blood and gore. "I specifically told the guard that no one is to enter." He looked back at him as he scrubbed, face crumpled in disgust.

"You forget, Dr. Woodrue, that I am the reason we are allowed to do the things that we do. Without me, you would not be working here, you would not have guards doing your dirty work, and most importantly," he paused, staring the other deeply into his eye. "The Warden wouldn't be turning a blind eye to your...activities." At the word, his eyes flickered to the whimpering man and back, making Woodrue do the same. "Of course, I would have access to enter." He watches as Woodrue pauses in cleaning his leg, scrubbing a few more times before standing to toss the bloodied rag in the sink.

"That is true."

He steps closer to the skinless man, looking over the red flesh and pumping veins, his lips twitching slightly at how the man continues to beg even though it's clear he works with the man who did this to him; is he so desperate that he would turn to a man who could possibly do worse, or is he just daft? "Have you made any progress?"

"Yes." He sighs heavily, looking down and around him until he spots the clip board, bringing it to his face to inspect it for gore, handing it to the other man when he found it to be decent enough. "I've begun to experiment with new toxins to see which ones are more compatible with the Venom, so far I've found only two. I've also discovered that any patients with diseases will blow up as soon as the venom enters their blood system, so I need bodies that are completely clean; something that is quite hard to find amongst the scum I've been allowed." He hints, hopeful that he will be allowed more clean patients, such as the doctors that Mad Hatter has been allowed to have.

Ignoring him, he asks. "Is that all?" Flipping a page.

He scowls. "No. I've also noticed that the venom seems to work better with females than males. With males, once the venom is in their system they grow bigger, as do the females, but when the chemical has run its course and the subject deflates, their skin and anything else that grew will be stuck that way. With females, everything goes back to normal, only their moods seem to grow more violent." He rubs the back of his neck, causing the blue cap on his head to move slightly with each rub; confused and annoyed. "I have a few theories as to why-"

"You have been taking too many patients, Dr. Woodrue. There is talk amongst the staff, they fear there is another Crane case on their hands." Flipping another page, his eyes lift from the words to look at him, watching as his face hardens and how he swallows thickly. "I think it'd be best for you to...take a break."

His face becomes red with anger, his eyes flashing as he points an accusing finger. "Me? What about you? I been using the trash that no one cares about, that no one will remember! You have been giving doctors to Jervis in exchange for his mind control drug, calling them his 'Alices'! Doctors! And you think I'm the one that is causing suspicion?" His hands fist at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling every few seconds as if he wants to hit something; the gloves causing an annoying squeaking noise.

"I am not saying that you must stop, merely that you take a break." He walks towards a near by table and lightly places the clipboard upon a tray of various knives, resounding in a clink of metal. Looking up he sees that Dr. Woodrue is still tense and grinding his teeth, causing his lip to twitch in amusement before looking back at the knives and tracing a finger over one of the sharp blades. "Use the time to better your compound, pick out a suitable subject..."

Stiffly he nods his head a few times. "Okay." Swallows thickly. "You're right."

He smiles, glasses reflecting the light and giving him a sinister appearance, and turns for the door. "Since you are no longer busy, I could use your help with the formula Jervis has given me." He stops at the door and turns to watch as Woodrue just stands there, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his head, causing the doctors cap to crinkle and shift a bit before nodding.

He then walks over to the table to pick up his clip board, halfway to the door though, he is stopped by a pointing finger. Confused, he turns to see the skinless man still twitching and whimpering. "Oh." And turns to another tray filled with various needles laid out neatly, fingers float back and forth twice before stopping over one filled with a clear liquid and pick it up. The man whimpers as he draws near, crying out when the needle is jammed roughly into his neck. He try's to fight it as his eyes suddenly start to unfocus, he can't blink to try and clear his vision so he just whimpers, body going slack before there is just darkness.

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Pulling her feet up into the chair, she cuddles them to her chest and makes herself comfortable, ignoring as the doctor's lips press into a firm line at her dirty shoes being on the chair; she'd no doubt wait till the guard took her away before trying to scrub off the leather with a paper towel or something. While she had been busying herself with the chair, the doctor had been saying something in the tape recorder and was now finished, laying it in the middle of the desk between them.

"I'd like to start off today's session by asking about the guards you attacked in Jacksonville. Why'd you do it?" Alex continues to stare at the little red light blinking on the tape recorder that says it is working, making the doctor clear her throat once, then twice before her attention is back on her.

Alex blinks her eyes a few times, staring at her. "They touched my things." She watches as the doctor's mouth falls open in shock, but before she can say anything, she continues. "I was laying in my bed when a man suddenly came in and started to go through my things, grabbing my clothes and tossing them into a duffel bag. I got mad because they had been telling me for a week that I had to leave, they said I could stay till I was 18, but I was only 17 and still had another 6 months. Once Dr. Ricketti died and I stopped talking they got mad that I wasn't talking any more and decided to send someone to pack my stuff and then toss me out; so I clawed his eyes out when he tried to touch me."

The room is quiet for what feels like hours, Dr. Sanders not believing what she just heard but by the look on Alex's face... "Alex...you can't just kill people because they touch your things, it's no-"

"Why?" She stares her down, her gaze intense. Those people promised her a place to stay until she was 18, they gave her a temporary home, but once Dr. Ricketti died they wanted her out right away; not even giving her time to try and find a job and get money for a place to stay. What if she had died not days later while out there? What would have been the point to spend all that money, all that time, just for her to become a bum living amongst the rest of the trash. Maybe that's what they had thought of her all along but wanted to play the hero by inviting her to stay with them, making themselves look like saints to the rest of the world for taking in the poor little girl from the narrows; beat and starved and dieing. Dr. Ricketti was the only reason she was still allowed there since they became friends and she was one of the most important people there, so no one questioned her as to way she kept her around. Granted, she would have easily survived out on the streets, basically having done so her whole life what with her mother and stepfather never feeding her, bathing her, or helping her when she was sick; it's a miracle that she's even alive, considering that she was a _baby_ at one point in her life. How did her mother manage to take care of her then, but not when she was 5 and older?

The doctor watched her as she became lost to her thoughts, face darkening at whatever it was that plagued her mind. She sat back in her chair, watching as countless emotions flickered on the young girl's face, and decided to open her mouth again. "So tell more more about your childhood." At her silence, she picks up the file and flips through a few pages till she finds a subject that peaks her interest. "The file mentions that your mother was a heroin addict."

_The house is dark and smells of booze and piss, broken furniture lay scattered all over the floor and coated in a layer of dust, the wall paper peeling off the walls and revealing rotted wood underneath. "Mom?" she whispers quietly, careful not to wake her step father who lay in the other room, laying face down on the kitchen floor with an empty bottle of Jack Daniel's whiskey clutched tightly in his hand. Her head suddenly starts to throb painfully, her vision spotting and making her blink, rubbing her eyes in attempt to try and clear it. She put a hand to her head where it hurt, feeling a sticky warmth in a spot of clumped hair, pulling her hand back she finds it covered in blood and whimpers. "Mom!" She whispers more urgently, even though she was beaten everyday of her life and this was a usual thing to occur, the sight of her blood never ceased to scare her. Her step father's snoring suddenly chokes to a stop, making her blood run cold and her body tense as she feared she had awoken him. After a few minutes it returns to normal, a sigh of relief leaving her lips as she relaxes. Looking around she finds herself in the living room and assumes that she had passed out during her beating, again, which she was glad about at first because he didn't like beating her when she slept and would wait until she woke. However, her passing out became so frequent during the beatings that her step father was becoming angry with her, making the first few minutes the most painful before she passed out again. With shaky legs she rose to her feet, using the dusty, green plaid couch next to her to help steady herself. Quietly she walked through the hallway, mindful of the broken glass since it tended to be loud when you stepped on it, and painful. She searched all the rooms of the house, even the cabinet under the sink in the bathroom, but still couldn't find her mother. She knew she was here, she had screamed at her mother for help when her step father suddenly grabbed her by her hair while she had been munching on a handful of stale cereal she found in a box on the floor, her mother had been sitting at the kitchen table with her, just smiling at her as she watched her eat. But she didn't help, she never did, instead she would grab her needle and that little bag of white powder from the cookie jar and go shoot up somewhere. With a disappointed sigh, she heads back and decides to wander the streets for a while before her step father wakes up, maybe she'd go play ball with the little group of narrow kids down the block. As she is walking back to the living room, she notices light seeping through the bottom of one of the closets in the hallway; how had she missed this? Hesitantly she opens the door, cringing when it squeaks loudly, but continues when she can still hear the snoring in the kitchen. Inside is her mother, leaning against the wall, needle in hand, eyes vacant and looking as if she were a corpse; the only indication she had to know that she was still alive, was the slight twitch of her right hand. She pauses,hand on the door nob as she watches her mother just sit there, staring at the wall like it held the answer to life. "Mom?" Her head lolls to the side as her eyes roll to look at her daughter, only actually seeing her for the briefest of seconds before they haze over and she goes back to her fantasy land. There is a loud squeak and then a gentle "click" as she closes the door, going to her mother's side. She takes the needle from her hand and sets it on the floor, she then picks up her mother's arms and sits in her lap, wrapping her arms around her as she just sits there and enjoys being in her mother embrace._

Blinking she looks up to find Dr. Sanders watching her, hands neatly folded on the desk as she patiently waits for Alex's flash back to finish.

"Was it about your mother?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Alex the only way I can help you is if you help me..."

Sanders sighs loudly, rubbing her face with both of her hands before looking at Alex. One moment she was talking then she would randomly go mute. Trying to get her to talk was like pulling teeth. She reaches towards the tape recorder, deciding to turn it off and end the session early, when Alex opens her mouth and tells her of her flashback.

"Did she ever harm you? Ever try and stop your step father?"

At this Alex shakes her head no. "No she never touched me like that. She did stand up to him the first time he struck me, which caused him to attack her and break her arm and nearly beat her to death. After that, whenever he laid his hand on me, she would go and lock herself away somewhere, doping herself up as she tried to block out my screams; she was scared of him, so scared that she let him abuse her daughter instead of her, completely ignoring my cries of help." She spits the words, an acidic taste on her tongue as she talks about her mother, how cruel she was to just let some man beat her bloody every day while she was safely locked away, high as a kite.

The doctor's eyes water and she sniffles a little as she reaches for a tissue to dab her eyes before her makeup leaks. "I'm so sorry Alex." Her mouth parts and her eyes roll up as she gathers her unshed tears. "I'm so very sorry."

She ignores this though, only watching as Sander's dabs her tears. Why was she crying? It didn't happen to her. She didn't experience these things. She had no right to cry.

Not liking how Alex was just watching her as she cleaned up her eyes, trying to fix where her makeup had smudged from a few escaped tears, she mumbled out a question to distract her. "When did your stepfather join you?"

Alex squints her eyes as if it'd help her remember, reaching up to scratch her neck as she thinks. "Around when I was...4 or 5. He's been in my life as long as I can remember, so long that I used to think that he was my actual dad."

"And what of your real father? Was he ever around." Once her eyes are dry, she begins to scribble down some notes to try and ease her nerves. What a horrible life this girl has lived. How was she not crying? It seemed none of the patients here cried, it was just all anger, death, blood, lust, and craziness, with a few rare exceptions like Alex; the ones who just looked dead, so lifeless...

She shakes her head no. "I don't even know his name." When she had asked her mother, her mother didn't respond and had looked the other way, so she guessed either she didn't know because she had been turning tricks and it could be anyone, or just didn't want her to know. Whoever it was, she looked more like him, where her mother had blonde locks, she had dark brown, her mother had brown eyes, she had blue, her mother was tan, she was pale, etc. Sometimes when she was little she would stare into the mirror at herself to memorize every little detail on her person, then head out to the streets and look for men who looked like her; she never found anyone, or she did find some with a resemblance but she didn't like them and didn't even want to entertain the possibility that they could be her father.

The room goes quiet, Dr. Sander having decided that was enough questions for the time being, and looks down at her watch to find they only have about 5 minutes left. Folding her hands together she looks up at Alex, smiling gently at her. "You're more talkative today, I thought I wouldn't be having you speak this much for at least 2 or 3 months."

Alex just shrugs, letting one leg slide off the chair to dangle as she stretches a bit, making the doctor chuckle at her going back to being mute again. The timer goes off with a loud beeping that sounded like an alarm clock and the guard walks right in on the first beep, as if he had had his ear pressed to the door the entire time. He unlocks her ankles from the chair and walks her out the door, but just before it closes she looks back just in time to watch as Sanders rips a few tissues from the box on her desk and rubs the chair with them. She snorts, smirking to herself as she is lead to dinner.

* * *

_Happy Mother's Day! Hope all of you are having a wonderful holiday either with your mothers or your kids :) Ok, for the story, you will now start to see some people from the comics plus the story of the game and the comics will kind of tie together a bit. Remember i haven't read the comics, though i would love too, so all my information is research. If anything looks funky, let me know._


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